


The End Of The World

by hauntedbytears



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Coda, Emotions, Episode: s11e23 Alpha and Omega, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-12 00:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7076773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hauntedbytears/pseuds/hauntedbytears
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It would be easy to turn his head and catch Cas’s lips. It would be easy to drag Cas in when he offered to go, and he wants to, he wants to so badly.</p><p>But it’s the end of the world, and there was too much to risk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The End Of The World

Dean puts a hand on Castiel’s shoulder -Castiel’s again, not Lucifer’s- and tries to ignore how much it reminds him of just over half a year ago.

(God, it was such a short time ago, and then there was the whole shit with the mark just before that. It seemed there was always something happening that ended up with the angel beaten or broken.)

He tries not to remember how his hand had trailed across Cas’s face the last time, how the sheer worry (guilt?) had burnt away at the restrictions he’d spent so long building up. It was hard not to repeat the motion at first, to not let touch reassure him that yes, Cas was back, and Cas was ok.

And then Dean’s reminded of how it was always because of him that Cas was hurt, and then it was easy to pull away, easy to follow Rowena outside and drown in the blood red fear of the apocalypse instead.

Because it was the end of the world, and it was always his fault.

He can't bring himself ask Castiel why he’d said yes to Lucifer. Because he knows that Castiel had been a strategist and had probably thought this the best course of action, perhaps. Or maybe because he’s afraid of the answer.

(Maybe Castiel hadn’t want to be saved, maybe he’d gotten tired of him and Sam and their melodrama.)

It hurts when they're in the car, sitting at once too close and too far away, talking about emotions and crap. A part of Dean thinks that maybe he’s going to finally say it, let slip the words that had been struggling to crawl out for years. Those three words, more potentially dangerous than the apocalypse.

But it’s the end of the world, and there’s too much on the line.

So he talks about being like brothers, and about friendship and decisions and whatever else he can think of that wasn’t the _words_ and he’s so painfully aware of just how much bullshit he’s talking. Brothers didn’t look at brothers like he looks at Cas, and friends didn’t have his urge to reach over and drag Cas in by the back of his neck, to dig his fingers in Castiel’s hair and whisper his fears between the press of their lips.

But it’s the end of the world.

So Dean goes through the motions, drinks beer and hunts ghosts in a haunted house in a hilarious parody of what he used to do before the angels and the demons and the end of the world. Using the dead to save the living. He cant help but wonder if it was fair.

It should be easier to concentrate on the hunts at hand and on finding a solution. His ‘attraction’ to Amara hasn’t been haunting his thoughts much since the trapping Lucifer incident, and had practically vanished since the whole thing with Chuck and the battle. Dean suspects it’s because Amara’s attention had been drawn elsewhere, focused as she was on the fights.

It just leaves a lot of space in his head for Cas.

But

he was going to die.

\----

Castiel looks beautiful beneath the falling flowers, and it feels… significant… for some reason, to have him standing next to Mary’s grave. His face is soft in the lighting, and petals twirl their own merry paths around him.

A halo of light and wings of petals, Dean muses, and can’t even be bothered to get angry at himself for waxing poetic.

Dean had sometimes allowed himself to hope for this, to visit Mary’s grave with his family, a whole person instead of a thing broken in both heaven and hell. It might be ironic, given the number of souls he currently contained. Like… 10,000 whole human souls.

If only there wasn’t the worried frown pulling down at the corners of Cas’s eyes and lips. If only Sam didn’t look so sad. If only.

(If only circumstances were different)

But there was always a constant reminder of the looming dangers, it’s always the end of the world somewhere, and they always seemed to be caught up in whatever mess was currently going on.

He doesn’t approach Cas first when he was saying goodbyes, didn’t want to approach him at all, to be honest, because they’d already had to say farewell too many times. (Always leaving, always being pushed away, because there was always something either more important or more urgent than Dean Winchester’s heart.)

Castiel approaches him instead, worry drawn into the lines of his face. And no matter what Dean had told himself about saying goodbyes, he falls into the hug easily and thinks of riverbanks in purgatory and armies of angels. (The place where Cas had left him again, the place where Cas had defied heaven for him again.)

It would be easy to turn his head and catch Cas’s lips. It would be easy to drag Cas in when he offered to go, and he wants to, he wants to so badly.

But it’s the end of the world, and there was too much to risk.

So instead, he holds on tight, and stops the tears from flooding his eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> *jumps into trash bag* *strikes pose* I'm ready take me away


End file.
